


the color of our love

by acidicrainbow



Category: Church Bells - Carrie Underwood (Song), Goodbye Earl - Dixie Chicks (Song), Two Black Cadillacs- Carrie Underwood (Song)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22764769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidicrainbow/pseuds/acidicrainbow
Summary: "They both knew the color of his eyes. A deep green that seemed to shine in their presence. They knew the apparent love in his eyes. What they tried to forget was the color of his rages, the deep purples of their bruises."
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	the color of our love

They both knew the color of his eyes. A deep green that seemed to shine in their presence. They knew the apparent love in his eyes. What they tried to forget was the color of his rages, the deep purples of their bruises.

They each thought of themselves as a singular. That all changed when she saw an unfamiliar number flash on his phone.

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” 

They were no longer singular. They never were, and after this moment, they would never feel alone again.

“I’m his girlfriend. So whoever you are-”

“I’m his  _ wife.  _ You can have him if that’s-”

“You- has he- I thought I was the only one-”

“You too?”

The wife brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a bruised hand. On the other end of the line, the girlfriend sat down, mindful of her hurt thighs.

“I’m Marianne,” the wife offered.

“Jenny,” the girlfriend returned.

“I’m sorry-” Marianne began.

“I’m not. I’m grateful that I'm not alone, however selfish that is.”

“This can’t go on.”

“I won’t let it.”

They never stopped talking. From secret texts to face timing, they didn’t let go. They knew each other better than they knew themselves. Entire sentences left unsaid, fragments of noise trailing off because the other  _ knew.  _ They knew the solitude but they had never known solace since. 

Marianne filed for divorce, let the law take it from there. She would be free and get enough money to free Jenny. He couldn’t hurt her again. Or so she thought. They hadn’t known the depth of his rage, and that the shine they mistook for love in his eyes was only skin deep. He wasn’t a man anymore, and he didn’t follow the laws of men.

Jenny drove the night away to reach Marianne.  _ Just let him try. Try to hurt Marianne while I’m there with her. _ She ran through the halls of a small country hospital to the intensive care unit.

“Marianne, we can’t let him continue.”

“He won’t listen. He said he’d never stop looking for me as long as we both lived. Those were his wedding vows. Jenny-”

“He doesn’t need to keep living.”

Marianne nodded, slowly processing Jenny’s words.

“Let’s bury that fucker six feet under.”

* * *

They bought matching black veils and dresses and did each other’s makeup. Marianne kept crying tears of joy and smudging Jenny’s handiwork. Jenny was smiling.

“Today we mourn the loss of a good man,” the preacher began. Marianne grabbed Jenny’s hand with an excited squeeze.

When the preacher had finished, his brother took the podium.

“He was a good friend,” the brother sobbed. 

The women in the two black veils didn’t bother to cry. Each set a rose on his grave and threw dirt on the deep mound.

“He’s gone.” Marianne breathed.

“He is.”

* * *

They bought a small farm with his money. A guard dog sat on the porch while Marianne finished canning beets from the garden. Jenny walked into the kitchen and right into Marianne’s arms.

“Marianne,” Jenny said, breathless, “I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

* * *

It wasn’t good. They woke in the middle of the night, remembering the colors of his rages. They held the days where he acted nice against themselves.  _ Who were we to play God?  _ They doubted themselves. 

It wasn’t good. It was great.

He was in their dreams, but they slept next to each other. The colors of their love made them quickly forget what happened before that. When one doubted herself, all she had to do was look at the other.  _ I may not believe that I deserved to be freed yet, but I know that she did. I’m glad he’s dead.  _

So it went until they were both able to sleep through the night. 

* * *

They took each other by the hand and spun in circles while the bread baked. Smiles broke their skin instead of bruises, and when they kissed, Jenny and Marianne forgot that they had ever lived without the other.

Their roadside stand sold Tennessee ham and strawberry jam. People from all over the county bought it. Some went so far as to ask:

“What’s the secret ingredient?”

They would laugh and answer:

“Love.”

* * *

They no longer knew the color of his eyes. His rage seemed like something that happened in another lifetime. All they knew was each other, and the color of their love. It was more than enough.

* * *

Children know more than they’re told. None of them knew the exact details of what Jenny and Marianne went through, but they had an idea. They wondered if it was anything like what their friend was going through. 

They saw her eyes, sunken. Her pale skin. The way her clothes hung off of her, too big to hold her. Then one day, the bruises began to appear. That was the last straw.

Her friends saved up all their money for some strawberry jam. They all went together to Marianne and Jenny’s stand. Jenny refused to take their money, instead giving them the jam for free.

“We didn’t just come for jam, miss.”

“Then what brought y’all here?” 

The group of children spoke over each other, whispering loudly. One phrase stuck with Marianne and Jenny.

_ He hurts her. _

The pair shared a look. They knew what had to be done.

* * *

“He was a good man,” the preacher began.

“He was a good friend,” his brother cried.

A little girl sat in the front row, crying. Not because of the death of her father. Because of the birth of her moms. Marianne and Jenny each grabbed one of her hands. They didn’t shed a single tear throughout the moving sermon.

When she cried at night, they knew exactly what to say to her. They held nightly dancing and baking sessions. It didn’t take long for the girl to learn their special Tennessee ham and strawberry jam recipe. She started to excel in school, her laughter beginning to be heard.

Her eyes now shone with the color of a family’s love.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> women be shopping!


End file.
